


Sooner or Later

by Jagged1



Category: Hanna Is Not A Boy's Name
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-12
Updated: 2017-11-12
Packaged: 2019-02-01 03:37:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,787
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12696516
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jagged1/pseuds/Jagged1
Summary: God, he was being such a whiny brat about this situation. In the end, Hanna helped him and he wasn't dead, not really, so it turned out okay. AKA: 11 character drabbles





	Sooner or Later

**Author's Note:**

> Lots of drabbles using the lyrics to Sooner or Later by Breaking Benjamin as inspiration for a lot of different character scenes. This was something I did for a DA challenge years ago.

_I want a normal life_  
just like a newborn child  
  
He wasn't really mad at Hanna; he couldn't be. He didn't  _want_  to be dead after all. But this unlife he had… Well, he didn't really want that either. He wanted his old life back, the living part anyway. This drinking blood thing was just not his style. He wanted his caffeine and not having to worry about when he'd get his next meal. (Thinking about how he got it was  _completely_  out of the question.) He wanted to be able to go outside during the day and be able to do normal things like everyone else. He wished he wouldn't be dragged along in Hanna's misadventures, even if the kid probably needed all the help he could get. …Okay, maybe he'd still go with him on the absurd jobs. God, he was being such a whiny brat about this situation. In the end, Hanna helped him and he wasn't dead, not really, so it turned out okay.   
  
He still wanted coffee though.  
  
_I am a lover hater_  
I am an instigator  
  
He drained the last drops from the girl's corpse before dropping it unceremoniously on the ground, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. She was such a looker it was kind of a shame, but then again he wouldn't have picked her if she didn't look good. He had tastes and standards of course. And old habits die hard; he couldn't resist wooing a pretty lady. It was an extremely effective method of getting a meal, so he never really tried to stop it. That being said, he was in the mood for a fight or at least some fun at someone else's expense. Where's that lameass vampire when you needed him? Or the pup he was with, that'd be nice. Good looking  _and_  a fighter, what more could he ask for? The noise of a loud party caught his attention and he grinned slyly. From the sounds of it they were already pretty far gone and looking to light up the town. Entertainment found.  
  
_You are an oversight_  
Don't try to compromise  
  
She had to hand it to the boy; he was much more capable than she originally thought. Not only did he free her, he had managed to save the poor soul whom she killed. Of course, now she had technically sired the worst vampire in the world, but that was far more hilarious than aggravating. It was a small concession to make for her freedom. If she ever saw Cross again, though, she'd have to take care of him and his undead friends. While they weren't much of a threat, she didn't like to leave loose ends. For now, they were free to go about their business, for she had much to do.  
  
_I'll learn to love to hate it_  
I am not integrated  
  
He could always tell he didn't quite belong with everyone else. But he did his best, fit social conventions, and was as good a person he could be. Thank god he put a stop to that. Who fuckin' cared if he went an' got licensed an' cleaned himself up an' looked presentable an' all that crap? Workin' outta a dingy office in a back alley, fixin' up whoever stumbled in (an' could pay, he wasn't runnin' a goddamn charity), not givin' a shit about anyone; that was all he needed. The couple'a times he even left the office were funny as hell. People got the hell out of his way or pretended like he wasn't even there. This whole not fittin' in thing? Best decision he ever made.  
  
_Just call my name_  
You'll be okay  
Your scream is burning through my veins  
  
"Hanna!"  
  
He watched helplessly as Hanna collapsed against the doorway, hammer and marker dropping from his hands. The glowing stopped so he figured the danger was mostly over. Except for the fact Hanna was unconscious and he had no idea what to do. He scooped the smaller man into his arms and hurried towards Worth's, knowing Conrad would explain and follow when he could. Being dead didn't stop the anxiety he felt in every fiber of his being. He could feel Hanna's pulse, but it was weaker than it should've been. The image of Hanna hiding his pain and finishing the job regardless was as admirable as it was distressing. He doubted he could ever forget that memory. And all he could do was be there to pick up the pieces and have Worth put them back together.  
  
_Sooner or later you're gonna hate it_  
Go ahead and throw your life away  
  
Ever since he found out the truth, he just couldn't leave things the way they were. It wasn't right what he was doing to her. It looked as if this was the only way he could help any of the people he cared about. He was going to do it. He was going to talk to his best friend about this situation he created and what he needed to do to set things right. It couldn't be too difficult; he'd surely listen to reason.   
  
"…but there is always a possibility of death in everything we choose to do."  
  
He had to admit that he hesitated after that. Then he hated himself for doubting his friend, for thinking of leaving the subject alone, that everything would work out on its own. No, he still had to do this. He got up and left the bar to have a long overdue talk.  
  
_'…a possibility of death…'_  
  
Driving me under, leaving me out there  
Go ahead and throw your life away  
  
That goddamn old man! He was sick of this crap! He could deal with all the abuse, not like it was anything new, but really?! He can't throw him out like dog! He sniffed, thumbing at his nose. Dammit, it was cold tonight. He supposed he was lucky it wasn't snowing, but jeez, this was stupid. He thought about going around the back of the house and hopping onto the roof and trying his window, god knows how many times he snuck out that way before, but scowled when he realized he had locked the thing earlier. He could always break it, but then he'd have to fucking pay to fix it and his dad (the bastard that he was) would kill him for it and  _then_  toss his sorry ass back outside. Nah, it wasn't worth the trouble. He shuffled down the street, kicking at a stray rock. Stupid old man, he'd find that damn pelt and give him a rude awakening.  
  
_You're like an infantile_  
I knew it all the while  
  
Sometimes he could only sigh at Worth's antics. Despite knowing the guy for the better part of his life, some things were just, well, stupid. Admittedly, the decision to drop out of med school didn't come as much of shocker. Really, he knew him too well for that. And obviously he'd help his pal out with relocating and setting up shop. Then there were all those times Worth just tried the dumbest combinations for kicks. Cleaning up after his messes was more than a little annoying, but someone had to do it. This latest venture took the cake though. He knew Worth loved messing with people, that was hardly new, but this thing with Conrad? It was practically grade school bullying all over again. But then again, if he expected Worth to grow up after all these years, he really was hoping for too much.  
  
_You sit and try to play me_  
Just like you see on TV  
  
That- that- that fucking excuse for a quack! He was sick of being Worth's plaything! What was so hard about giving him a goddamn bag of blood?! He clenched his jaw and could just  _feel_  his control slipping. And there, the source of all his problems was sitting, looking like the most innocent thing in the world. Except for that goddamn smirk-leer plastered all over his face! It was always the same thing! He'd be in his chair, legs propped on the table, hands behind his head, and  _that look_  would be there. If he wasn't already dead he would've had an aneurysm by now with all the crap he went through. (Un)fortunately, that was no longer a possibility, so he just had to put up with the same fucking stupid game every visit brought about.  
  
_I am an oversight_  
Just like a parasite  
  
When he first moved into the slightly hidden office, it was still part of a workin' building so utilities weren't a problem. When the place started fallin' into disrepair an' the legitimate tenants left, then he had a few kinks to work out. Between him an' Lamont, the two of them spliced into a line here, bypassed a meter there an' he was back in business. It worked well an' pretty soon he was off the grid. If someone thought that money was a little tight these days, or that maybe their bills were a little higher than they shoulda been, it wasn't his problem. They weren't gonna find him an' he'd been doing this long before it was theirs. At first, his supplies were what he could filch from school an' the affiliated hospital, an' then Lamont brought 'em in using his unique brand of business. He was livin' offa everyone else and it was just fine by him.  
  
_Why am I so pathetic_  
I know you won't forget it  
  
He sat there fidgeting in his seat, shooting nervous glances at the door. It wasn't the first time he'd been here and it certainly wouldn't be the last. He was a regular and after years, nothing had changed. In fact, he was probably getting worse. Telling Dr. Birch wasn't going to help because as "confidential" as their meetings were (he highly doubted anything he said stayed "just between them"), his mother would know, just  _know_ , and he'd never hear the end of it and then he'd be right back here again and the whole process would start over. Being hounded to stay in therapy was draining, to say nothing of the sessions themselves. It kept grating on his nerves and there were days when he just did not want to do anything because he thought that it was going to go horribly wrong or things would happen and it just wasn't worth the effort. And he could never try and forget about all these things, not for a moment, because his mom didn't ever let him and it was always just  _looming_  and, oh, was he hyperventilating, because that wasn't going to help him at all today.


End file.
